It is no secret that the new British government is making sweeping changes to arts and culture policies. From budget cuts to the entire restructuring of national and regional arts funding, the unstable future of our collective culture is increasingly debated.

In the midst of that, we must also consider where minority groups fit into the equation. Will they muster the cut-throat tactics to survive? Will policymakers choose to maintain positive action programmes, or will sections 35 and 37 of the Race Relations Act be forgotten?

As a young arts professional, I have only recently felt my career taking off, having utilised the often-controversial diversity scheme as a springboard. After graduating with a first-class degree, I spent what seemed like a lifetime twiddling my thumbs in unsatisfying entry-level roles and, like many humanities graduates in my cohort, waiting at the jobcentre. Without the financial means to fund further my education, or the resources to devote time to unpaid work experience, I ended up taking on opportunities unrelated to my vocation.

Last year, just as matters had started to improve, I was accepted onto a curating fellowship. It was originally founded in response to a survey in 2005 that revealed only 6% of London's museum and gallery workforce hail from a minority background – a disproportionate ratio, considering that black and minority ethnic residents make up nearly a third of the capital's population.

Recent attitudes by policymakers have brought cause for concern. A couple of months ago, the mayor of London's director of arts and culture, Munira Mirza, suggested that positive-action cultural policies breed "difference" and, as such, prevent true equality from taking place. Perhaps even more disconcerting, however, were the angst-ridden and misguided comments on her article that suggested cultural diversity schemes were tantamount to racism and should be abolished.

In retrospect, it seems to me that Mirza and others are missing a vital point. Certain ethnic, social and cultural groups have been historically oppressed and are, accordingly, less likely to tread down seemingly less stable career paths, such as the arts.

As a first-generation British immigrant, I was groomed from as young as the age of five to go down the route of medicine – after all, my father had sacrificed a great deal to bring us to this country.

So what are we to do? Let the case rest and suggest art exhibitions are an area reserved for the white middle class? Fine art, specifically, is a subjective medium that has historically favoured the construction of a European and North American canon. And although recent trends in globalisation have fostered seemingly diverse collections, one must remember that this construction is still formed on the basis of "difference".

For instance, it is no coincidence that the rise of Middle Eastern art occurred in the wake of the events of 9/11 – when the likes of Charles Saatchi saw the opportunity to present artists who were responding to their Islamic identity.

And while exhibitions of Middle Eastern art are certainly better than having none at all, they are equally polemical if the environment for taste brokering is not diverse itself. To avoid imperialistic tendencies, minority groups must be allowed equal footing in the forum, where they can create their own canon.

Whether that canon promotes the cause of their ethnic identity is beside the point. Rather, it is about fostering a culture that permits the free flow of ideas, without the worry that one cultural product should take precedence over another.

Of course, this isn't to suggest that diversity policies come problem free. In my experience, they can foster feelings of envy and confusion from friends and colleagues who mistakenly believe that they encourage favouritism based on race. In reality, the selection criteria for such schemes tend to be especially stringent, with numerous applicants and especially high entry requirements.

Perhaps what cultural commentators need to recognise is that just because an arts policy raises new concerns, that does not mean it is bad or should be abandoned. Rather, the thorny questions raised should be used as a means for our progression. For example, diversity programmes around ethnicity force questions about the diversification of the arts workforce on the basis of social background – a matter that requires complex evaluation. Positive action programmes bear an unfair burden, and in times of economic recession my fear is that they may fall by the wayside. Instead of abandoning them, though, one hopes they will remain on the cultural agenda. If this inclusive desire for change continues to flourish then we may find these programmes fading out organically, as the voices that form our cultural narratives become more varied.